Everything Changes
by J.E Magic
Summary: It all started with an increase in price. Everything changed after that. As the strike war wages on, Jack Kelly, David, Sarah, Spot and Hearts face challenges they never dreamed of. Their fears comes to life, their past catches up to them and it feels as if they can not hide from it. ...(FULL SUMMARY INSIDE)
1. Chapter 1

Au_thors notice: Hi Guys! I'm back! I'm sorry! I had to take a break and get my head staight! I had so many new story ideas and they all wanted to get down on paper but I really needed to choose one so I've buckled down and started writing this as I was watching Newsies! So the story 'Everthing Changes'. awakes place during the strike and it introduces my new character Heart Conlon! So below is the full Summary incase it didn't fit so hope you guys enjoy it!_

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_It all started with an increase in price. Everything changed after that. As the strike war wages on, Jack Kelly, David, Sarah, Spot and Hearts face challenges they never dreamed of. Their fears comes to life, their past catches up to them and it feels as if they can not hide from it. As Jack leads the newsies into the strike, old enemies come up, David never believed he would get caught up in something bigger than him, Sarah didn't know she would fall in love with Jack Kelly and when she finds out his dream, it changes the game, Spot worst fear of losing someone comes true. And Hearts past finally caught up with her. Will the Newsies win the strike? Will David figure out how to use his voice? Will Sarah find love? Will Spot protect the one he loves and will Hearts let her past dictate her future? _

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The Morning air in New York was stifling and thick as the early sun rose up to meet the blue sky. It gave a calm atmosphere for the citizen who had just awoke for a long, hard, sweaty day at work in the factories or in the streets. As the sun rose in the east, Mr. Kloppmen, Owner of the Manhattan Newsboy Lodging house, had climbed the rickety, old wooden steps to the second floor of the Lodging House, where, many newsboys, ranging from five to nineteen, were sprawled on bunks and the floor, dreams of happiness swept over their minds, clouding them. As Kloppmen entered the bunk room, he shook his white haired head, his forehead adding to the already visible crinkled. He walked down the main isle, sparing glances at the sleeping boys. Kloppmen walked over to a bunk and tapped one of the newsboys foot.

"Skittery! Skittery! Skittery!" He called out, waking the seventeen year old newsboy from his pleasant dream. The young newsboy jolted awake from the raspy voice of the caretaker, his eyes were blinded from the sunlight and the clouds that had blurred his vision.

"I didn't do it!" He called out innocently, thinking he was in trouble. Kloppmen shook his head as he turned away from the boy. "What do you mean you didn't do it? Will you get up? When you get up, it's time to get up! Snitch! Get up! Get up! Everybody's sleeping. They sleep their lives away these kids! The presses are rolling! Sell the papers, sell the papers!" Kloppmen's voice boomed out, his voice breaking the dream barriers and causing the boys to be rudely awaken from their slumber. Kloppmen made his way over to the leader of the Manhattan newsies, Mr. Jack Kelly, who was determined to get a bit more off sleep before going to work.

"Mmmmm? What's a matter with you?" Jack muttered incoherently as he turned away from the old man.

"What's the matter with me?" He asked facetious, looking at the boy. "Wanna...go...back...to..." Jack added maundering as he turned to face the old man. Kloppmen did not budge nor did he move his position from the bunk as he poked the boy, willing him to get up. After some playful banter, the leader finally rose from the bed smacking the pillow in annoyance. As Jack Kelly made his way into the washroom, he stared at himself in the little mirror above the bar. His light brown hair was messy in a bed head way, his face still held a gaze of sleep and his dark eyes showed some clouding from the uprooted awaking. He studied his reflection and grabbed the nearest bottle of shaving cream and wiped the brush along his face.

Mornings in the Jacob household were much different than that of the newsboys. It consist of Mayor Jacobs waking up at the crack of dawn, as was his routine before he was fired due to a accident resulting in a broken arm, which then would wake up Ester Jacobs to get ready for a day as a laundress. Once she was done reading herself, she walked into the children's room, where Sarah, David and Les slept peacefully, dreaming of sweet dreams. She would wake each child softly, kissing Les on the head, patting Sarah's hair and shaking poor David awake. The three Jacob children by then, would be out of bed and, as a rule for the Jacob children, Sarah went first considering she was the oldest. Once Sarah had combed her hair, placed it in a half bun and applied some makeup, she stepped out of the single washroom they shared and let David go in. Once David was done, little Les would rush in, quickly brushing his teeth and combing his hair before racing out to be the first for breakfast. The Jacobs would each breakfast, talk about their plans and head for their specific destination. Ester Jacobs would walk to the Laundress shop, Sarah went to the Clothing shop a couple of blocks for. Her apartment and David would go to school along with Les but today was different, since their father could not provide for the family due to his injured arm, David decided to become a newsie and earn money to help his family. Of course, Les wanted to join David, giving him a reason not to go back to school and to David's dismay, Les came with him. As David and Les headed for Newsie square, his mind wondered to the idea of what was to come for later.

The Brooklyn household was far from the routines of Manhattan and the Jacobs. Considering the Brooklyn newsies were lead by a king, their idea of getting up in the morning was slightly different. Mr. Sweeney, the caretaker of the Brooklyn Lodging house had climbed the steps to the first bunk from where all the Brooklynites were sleeping. Snores filled the silence gap in the air and Mr. Sweeney, although was a kind and gracious man, was not exact in his normal being in the morning. He blew a loud whistle that was sharp and crisp, making the Brooklynites jump up from their bunks, some hitting their head on the top bunk's framing.

Mr. Sweeney, once he saw that the Brooklynites had gotten up and were getting ready travelled a crossed the hall to Mr. Spot Conlon's room. Spot Conlon was the leader of the Brooklyn newsies and king to all the street rats and newsies of New York. He was well known for his cane and the key around his neck as well as his fearful appearance and was able to inflict fear onto a grown man. Mr. Sweeney knocked on the old wooden door and called out to Spot.

"Spot? Spot Conlon! Time to get up! Sell the papes." Mr. Sweeney called out to Spot Conlon.

Inside Spot's room was not only him but Heart Conlon, Queen of Brooklyn and Spot's girl. The two were sleeping, in bed together. Spot's arm was draped around her waist, her hand was stretched out going under the pillow. The two's breathing was synchronized. Mrs. Sweeney yells boomed in Spot's ear. He mumbled loudly to Mr. Sweeney.

"Five...more...minutes." He waved a hand to the door. Heart Conlon shifted, obviously awaking from Spot and Mr. Sweeney. She cracked open an eye, letting the New York sun stream through the window and shine in her eye. She shifted slightly and Spot pulled Hearts closer to his chest, his nose grazed her lavender smelling hair.

"Mmhhh...don't leave babe. Ain't time for getting up." Spot mumbled. Hearts giggled and rolled over to her faces was meeting his. Spot's blue eyes gazed onto hers as a feeling that neither could describe past over them.

"We have to get up..." She mumbled softly. Spot smirked at her, his hand going to the small of her back as he pulled her even closer. He pecked her lips.

"No we don't." He breathed lowly. She laughed and pushed away from him and sat up. Hearts ran her fingers through her hair as she yawned. Spot came up and wrapped and arm around her waist. His blonde hair was frazzled and his shirt was not present. He pulled her face close and kissed her. Spot pulled her into his lap as he kissed her roughly. A knock at the became present.

"You up Spot?" Sweeney asked from outside. Spot growled and Hearts pulled away, got up and headed to the washroom. Spot smirked as he watched her walk into the washroom. God did Spot love mornings.


	2. Chapter 2

As the Manhattan newsies exited the Lodging house, they were flipping, jumping, running and laughing as they made their way down to 'The World's Distribution Center' run by Mr. Wiesel or as the newsies prefer to call him, Mr. Weasel. As they newsies approached the gates, a stench of scabber a wafted their nostril as the Delancey Brothers approached from the other side of the gate.

"Step aside! Make way!" They called out as Oscar pulled out a large key, placing it in the lock on the gate and let the street rats in.

"Dear Me! What is that unpleasant aroma? I feah the sewer may have backed up during the night!" Racetrack Higgins, a wise ass newsies remarked, waving his hat in front of him.

"Na! Too rotten to be the sewer!" Boots, a small black newsie called out, aiding Racetrack in his harassment.

"It must be..." Racetrack started. "The Delancey Brudders!" The rest of the newsies joined in.

"Hey Oscar! Woird on the street is youse and ya brudders took money ta beat up strikin' trolley workers!" A newsie addressed Oscar, whose face turned smug with delight. Hearing things that made Oscar seemed tougher was music to his ears.

"Ya so? It's honest woirk!" Oscar exclaimed, pretending to act superior to the street rats before them.

"A crack in da head ain't work!" Another newsie called out at Oscar. His face dropped slightly but came back up with another smug look.

"Well I take care of the guy who takes care of me." Oscar pronounced loudly and proudly. Racetracks scoffed at him. He moved closer on Oscar, rocking on the heel of his shoes.

"Ain'tcha fadder one of dem strikers?" Racetrack asked triumphantly. Oscar's face dropped to a angered state and moved in one Racetrack, his eyes showing he never backed down from a fight with them.

"Well I guess he didn't take of me." Oscar seethed. Morris turned Crutchy around by the shoulder, cornering him.

"Ya want some of that too? Ya lousy crip!" With that remark, he shoved Crutchy to the ground, taking his crutch. Jack, seething at this point, rushed over and ripped the crutch from Morris's hand, clenching it tight. Some of the other newsies had helped Crutchy up.

"Hey! Now that's not nice Morris! Find dat one day, youse might find ya self with a bum gam of ya own. How'd ya like us pickin on youse? Hey maybe we should find out!" Jack pulled back the crutch and in one swift motion, jab Morris hard behind the shin, causing him to fall to the cobblestone. Oscar charged at him, trying to show the street rat his place in the dingy cruel world but Jack merely shoved him to the ground as well.

"Wait till I get my hands on youse!" Oscar threatened.

"Y'all have to catch me first!" And with that Jack sprinted away and soon, the Delancey were right behind him.

As young David made his way down to Newsie square, with Les in tow, a sound of hollering and laughing filled his ears. No later did he see a young man with a red bandana and a cowboy hat came running around the bend, a smile plastered on his face. A second later the boy collided with David making them stagger. David furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"What do you think your doing?" He asked plainly. The boy looked behind him, seeing how his friends created a barrier so Jack could get a head start.

"Running." He pushed between him and ran. Les watched with wide eyes as the two other boys pushed David as if he were air to catch up with the red bandana boy. As the newsies passed by, a young newsie looked at Les and waved to him, beckoning him to follow. Les didn't think twice before running off after him, ignoring David's cries for him to stop.

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As Heart stepped out of the washroom, Spot couldn't help but stare at her, his mouth agape. Although to many, her outfit wasn't stunning, but it made Spot smile when he saw her. She wore a rosy red skirt with a nice white blouse. Her blue black raven hair was pulled back with a blood red ribbon. Her cheery pink lips were lush against her pale skin and her silver heart locket with a red orb inside twinkled in the sun. Spot couldn't help but smile at his girl.

"Ready?" She asked, making her way towards him to fix the collar on his shirt. He smiled and too one of her hands and kissed her finger pads. She pulled it away.

"Spot." She mockingly teased. He made a face at her and pulled her close.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Spot questioned her, looking into her big blue eyes. She smiled.

"Not today." She teased again and he chuckled and kissed her. He kissed her nice and long, his tongue battling hers for dominates. A coughing at the door made them jump. Harvard, Spot's second in command shifted uncomfortably in his spot, his cheeks flushed from the act he just witnessed.

"Jesus Harvard! Evah heard of knocking!" Spot growled. Harvard just shifted in his spot, knowing fully well Spot hates to be disturbed when he's with Hearts.

"Uh, sorry. Just that Sweeney wanted me to come tell you to come down." Spot grumbled incoherently, something about people giving him privacy. Heart smacked his chest playfully, showing him that she heard his comment and exited the room, giving a small smile. Harvard tipped his black cabby hat and gave a small, gentlemen like smile as he his the red blush rising on his cheeks. As Heart exited the hallway and made it down the stairs, Spot had joined Harvard in the doorway and watched as she moved down. Spot glared at Harvard, who dropped the admiring gaze and tried to say something. Spot gave him a playful shove as the two made their way down the stairs.  
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As David caught up with Les, he tried to reach out and grab his collar but failed as Les gave a boost and wormed his way into the crowd of newsie, who were watching as Cowboy climbed the gate of the Center and laughed down at the Delancey. As Les admired in awe, the newsies began to pile into the Distribution Center and David was able to pull Les near him, giving him a discontent stare. Les just smiled innocently, telling David he just was curious before leading his older brother to the center.  
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The newsies broke out into cheers as the distribution bell began to ring. The gates opened, Jack still holding on; He grabbed a nearby rope and swung down to the ground. The newsies lined up for their papers, Jack at the front, congratulating him on his win against the Delancey's. The brothers stalked past Jack with furious glares on their faces.

"See you tomorrow, Cowboy," Morris sneered. His left cheek had already begun to swell up.

"You're as good as dead, Cowboy," Oscar threatened. Jack let out an amused chuckle while keeping his face in an uninterested expression. He walked over to the distribution desk and rapped on the wood.

"Oh, Mistah Weasel," He sang, a joking smile hung on his lips. Behind the metal bars, the wooden curtain was pulled up and away, revealing a middle aged man with a dirty face. His expression was stuck in a disgusted sneer.

"Alright, alright. Hold your horses! I'm comin', I'm comin'," he muttered.

"So, didja miss me, Weasel? Huh? Didja miss me," Jack asked, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. The newsies behind him snickered

"I told ya a million times. The name's Wisel. Mistah Wisel, to you. How many?" Weasel's exasperated voice asked. Jack had taken a paper, turned his back to him, and leaned against the metal bars. He unfolded the paper and scanned the pages.

"Don' rush me, I'm perusin' tha merchandise, Mistah Weasel," Jack retorted before slapping down a quarter, looking Weasle dead in the eye.

"The usual," she stated in a strong voice; she was a leader after all.

"Hundred papes for the wise ass," Weasel told Morris. "Next!" Jack grabbed his papers and turned away. Racetrack took her spot. He smiled at Weasel.

"Mornin', your Honor," he greeted. He put his cigar to his lips and struck a match on a metal bar. "Listen, do me a favor, spot me fifty papes?" He lit his cigar and took a few puffs. "I gotta hot tip in the fourth, won' waste ya money."

"It's a sure thing?" Weasel asked him, a look of interest crossing his face.

"Yeah," Race replied. "Not like last time." Weasel didn't look the least bit reassured, but shrugged it off.

"Fifty papes," he told Morris. "Next!" After Race turned away, Crutchie hobbled up to the front.

"Heya, Mistah Wisel," he started, but whatever else he said was forgotten.

"Anythin' good this mornin'?" He asked Jack, though Jack had ignored his comment and stared at Les, who was staring with wide eyes of admiration.

"Thirty papes for Crutchie. Next!"

"Well, ya wanna sit down?" He asked Les, who sat down next to him and attempted to read the paper.

"Twenty papes, please,"David asked, his voice cheery and aristocratic. "Thanks." Jack went back to skimming the morning edition, glancing over at the kid. He was staring at her in reverence. Though Jackie didn't show it, it made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Look a' dis," Racetrack began, "'Baby Born with Two Heads.' Must be from Brooklyn." Jack smiled and nudged him.

"Hey, you got your lousy papes, now beat it!" Weasle screamed out.

"I paid for twenty, but only got nineteen," David tried to sound confident.

"Are you accusin' me of lyin', kid?" Weasel demanded.

"No," he started, looking agitated. "I just want my paper." Jack walked over to the small stack of newspapers in front of David

"He said beat it," Morris told David menacingly. Jack flipped through the newspapers, counting them quickly, his eyebrows furrowed together.

"No, it's nineteen, Weasel." Jack smirked, amused. "It's nineteen, but don' worry about it. It's an honest mistake. I mean, Morris, here, can' count to twenty with his shoes on," she said in a fake apologetic voice. Morris moved forward quickly, grabbing at the bars in front of Jack's face, but he leaned just far enough back to be out of his reach. He laughed smugly before turned her head toward Racetrack.

"'Ey, Race, will ya spot me two bits?" He asked, eyebrows raised. Racetrack fished in his pocket for a quarter and flipped it up to him. Jack caught it effortlessly, and a brief look of annoyance flashed across David's face. Jackie smirked a bit wider at that, and turned back to Weasel.

"Another fifty for my friend," He stated, clapping David on the back. He looked torn between glaring at Jack and refusing the offer. He chose to refuse.

"Oh, I don't want another fifty," he told Weasel with a grimace, but Morris had already handed the newspapers to Jack, who in turn, shoved them into David's chest, who was baffled by the act.

"Sure ya do. Every newsie wants more papes," He told him, Jack shoving the newspapers at David and stalked away, his friends forming circles around the two, eager to see the newbie take on Jack Kelly.

"I don't want your papes. I don't take charity from anyone, I don't know you, and I don't care to. So here are your papes." David handed back the papers to Jack, who ignored the guesture."

Les's eyes widened when he saw who his brother was arguing with. Cowboy! Les did not hear much about him but he knew enough from the young boy, snipeshooter, that he was well known in Manhattan and David was talking to him! Les sprinted up to David, grabbing his arm.

"Cowboy. They call him Cowboy," he whispered. Jack smiled egoistically as he handed his papers off to Mush.

"Yeah, dat an' a lotta otha things, includin' Jack Kelly, which is what me mudda called me," He told Les, kneeling down to his level. "So, whatta they call you, kid?" Jack gestured to him.

"Les, and this is my brother, David," he said excitedly, gesturing to David, acting as if he were unimportant. "He's older." Les added at which Jack smirked, looking up at David.

"No kiddin'," she joked. "How old are you, Les?" Jack asked the kid.

"Near ten," he answered. Jack smirked as he spoke to him.

"Near ten…well, that's no good. If anyone asks, ya seven." Les nodded, his eyes wide. "Ya see, younger sells more papes, an' if we're gonna be partners, we wanna be the best," Jack told him quietly but loud enough for David to hear. He made gestures with his hands as he explained to Less. David's face contorted in annoyance and confusion.

"Wait, who said anything about being partners?" David asked her. Jack's eyebrows rose.

"Well, you owe me two bits, right?" Jack pointed at him blankly. David shrugged at him.

. "I'll consider that an investment. We sell togetha, an' split…seventy-thoity, plus, you get tha benefit of obsoivin' me, no charge." Jack smirked at him mugly.

"Ah-ha!" David laughed, thinking this kid as a joke.

"Ah-ha!" He mocked. Crutchy hobbled over and tapped David on the shoulder.

"Hey, you're gettin' the chance of a lifetime here, Davey." Crutchy leaned forward as to emphasize his next statement. "Ya learn from Jack, ya learn from tha best." The other newsies murmured in agreement. The smug smirk returned to Jack's face, much to David's dismay.

"Well, if he's the best, then how come he needs me?" David asked aloud, getting oohs from the boys around him. Jack looked at him, his smirk turned into a fierce frown, his eyes taking the challenge David had posed silently.

"Look, I don' need you, pal," He grabbed Les's shoulder, pulling him toward Jack. "But I ain' gotta cute little brudda like Les, here, ta front for me. With this kid's puss, and my God given talent," at this comment, David rolled his eyes, "we could move a thousand papes a week." He leaned back down to Les. "So, whattaya say, Les? Ya wanna sell with me?"

"Yeah!" Les exclaimed, grinning widely. Jack held out his hand to Les.

"So we gotta deal?" David pursed his lips, and put his hand in front of Les's, not letting him make a stupid decision on his first day.

"It's gotta be at least fifty-fifty," he bargained.

"Sixty-fourty, I forget tha whole thing," Jack compromised. He licked his lips with anticipation.

David looked around and gazed at the newsies who were watching this negotioation. Finally he turned back to Jack, nodded and held out his hand. Jack smirked and spit into his own palm, before placing it with David, who pulled away in disgust.

"'Sa matta?" He asked loudly.

"That's disgusting," he replied. The newsies around them laughed as Jack turned towards Mush and took his papes. Jack explained to David why he should take more, saying that newsies sold the papers not the headlines. As the newsies spread out for the day, Jack trudged along with David, seeing how the stuck up know it all man could handle on the streets.


End file.
